


topsy turvy

by iron_spider



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Buried Alive, Gen, No Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 06:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19388836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iron_spider/pseuds/iron_spider
Summary: heyomg that deliveredyou’re right, Stark phones are far superioror is it just this particular one you gave meTony stares at his phone as the messages come in, and he narrows his eyes. He shifts a little on the couch, glances at Pepper.“What?” she asks, catching his eye. She looks down at his phone. “What did Peter do?”“Do I have a Peter face?” Tony asks. “Peter in danger expression?”“I don’t know,” Pepper says. “Is he in danger?”Tony sighs. “I hope not, but I’m—I’m not optimistic.”





	topsy turvy

_hey_  
_omg that delivered_  
_you’re right, Stark phones are far superior_  
_or is it just this particular one you gave me_

Tony stares at his phone as the messages come in, and he narrows his eyes. He shifts a little on the couch, glances at Pepper.

“What?” she asks, catching his eye. She looks down at his phone. “What did Peter do?”

“Do I have a Peter face?” Tony asks. “Peter in danger expression?”

“I don’t know,” Pepper says. “Is he in danger?”

Tony sighs. “I hope not, but I’m—I’m not optimistic.”

He composes a response. _Why are you worried about service? Where are you?_ He sends it fast before he can start making passive threats about checking Karen, tracking his phone. He tries to wait to do both things. He sighs, waiting, and sees the three dots pop up. 

_okay don’t like freak out_

Tony sighs again, rolling his eyes so hard that it hurts. 

“Uh oh,” Pepper says.

Tony sets his jaw.

_Yeah, surefire way to get me to do exactly that. Where are you and what’s going on? Let’s go, complete honesty, or I’m calling May._

He sends it, tapping his finger on the side of the couch.

“Friday,” he says. “Track Peter’s phone.”

“ _Sure, Boss._ ”

Tony’s phone buzzes. And his breath catches in his throat.

_so i’m, uh, buried alive! i’m in a coffin. I was fighting some crazy big dude and he knocked me out cold and then I woke up here. I’m absolutely under the ground. I definitely did not think my messages were gonna go through! trying not to talk to conserve oxygen :)_

Tony covers his face with his whole hand. He presses his fingers into his temples and tries not to rip his own head from his neck. “Peter. Is buried alive. And he has the nerve—the audacity—to start his messages with ‘hey’ and to include an emoji. A smiley face, at that.”

“Oh Jesus,” Pepper says. “Friday, do you have his location?”

Tony’s phone buzzes again. 

_uh oh! that went through, right? It says delivered. don’t be mad. I said don’t be mad!_

Tony is attempting to breathe. He feels seconds away from a heart attack, knowing full well he’s gotta move. Move at the speed of fucking light, if Friday would just pull up the damn location—

“ _Peter Parker’s phone seems to be located at a junk yard on 91st, but the tracking is weak._ ”

Tony leaps to his feet, relinquishing the death grip he had on his face. He starts striding towards the stairwell with a deep sense of purpose, each step tinged with the bleak horror of what’s in front of him. He holds onto his phone like a lifeline, hoping he doesn’t crush it with the force of his fear.

“You got this?” Pepper yells after him.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go dig my kid out of the ground,” Tony says, nearly vomiting on the spot.

“Don’t get mad at him when you see him!” Pepper yells. “He’s going through something!”

“He’s putting me through something,” Tony mutters, starting down the stairs.

~

Tony finds him like he’s searching for gold on a beach with a metal detector, and he blasts away at the ground until he gets close enough to worry about hitting Peter. There’s a little red outline on his screens that represents Peter’s location, and he really fucking hopes he doesn’t see the kid taking a selfie. Maybe he’s just hallucinating. Maybe he’s just losing his goddamn mind because _Peter is buried alive._

Tony’s glad the junk yard is closed, because he probably would have utterly gone off on someone by now. And he can be pretty intimidating, in and out of the suit.

The night is closing in on him—he can barely see his surroundings in the weak light, and he keeps going, unable to focus on or register anything around him. It’s all a fucking blur. He digs with metal hands, swiping dirt away, and shit, this asshole buried Peter deep. Tony can’t believe the Stark phone has service, and it probably is because he added every possible safety precaution to Peter’s phone. Thank God. 

He finally gets to the top of the coffin and he feels bile rise up in his throat. His—his kid is in there, Peter is in a _coffin_ —and Tony tries to blink away the nightmares blotting his vision. He digs around the edges, trying to clear everything away.

He gets the suit to let him out and he nearly collapses when he’s on his own feet, standing in, for all intents and purposes, Peter’s goddamn grave. When there’s enough of a hole and most of the coffin is out in open air, Tony latches onto the side and immediately yanks it open.

Peter is laying there, clutching his phone and his mask in his hands, and his eyes go wide when the light floods in.

“Oh my God,” he breathes, as Tony stares down at him. “That was so fast.”

Tony almost has a fatal brain malfunction, and he has to get the kid out of the coffin _immediately_. He’s heard tales of mothers lifting cars off their children, that kind of protective adrenaline that kicks in when someone they love is in danger, and Tony feels that now, even though Peter is just lying there, seemingly lounging in what should be the body’s final respite. Tony nearly blacks out, bending over, grabbing the kid around his middle and hauling him up. He doesn’t stop dragging him backwards until he’s completely out of the coffin, like Peter weighs nothing, but even then he doesn’t let go. They tumble backwards in dust and dirt, and a mountain of relief. But the panic is still stabbing pain in Tony’s chest.

“Out of this hole,” Tony mutters. “Out of this goddamn hole.”

Peter braces his hands on Tony’s shoulders. “Wow, same brain.”

It looks more like a meteor crater than a hole, but Tony doesn’t give a shit what they call it, he just has to get the hell away from it. They clamor out, and so does the suit, and the disturbed earth sinks beneath their feet. Tony stands, drags Peter up along with him, and pulls him into a hug before he can say anything else. It’s bone crushing, and too tight, but Peter doesn’t complain.

“I said don’t be mad,” Peter says, muffled against Tony’s shoulder. He’s holding on like he’s afraid of falling, but Tony refuses to let that happen.

“Not mad,” Tony says. “Trying to stave off a heart attack.” He squeezes Peter’s shoulder, reminds himself that he’s solid. Right here. Not in a box under the ground. And he never will be again, not if Tony has anything to do with it. He cups the back of the kid’s head, closing his eyes and letting out a breath.

“I thought about, uh, punching through it,” Peter says. “But I didn’t think—I wasn’t sure if all the compacted dirt, would, uh—I didn’t know if I could get out in time…”

 _Without suffocating_. Tony doesn’t say it. Peter doesn’t say it either. 

Crickets and car horns make a merry melody all around them, and the darkness is deep. Peter sighs, wilts a little bit in Tony’s arms, and claps him on the back a couple times.

“I’m good,” he says, after a few moments pass. “I’m good, I’m good.”

Tony doesn’t wanna be more overbearing than he already is so he pulls back, but keeps his hands on Peter’s shoulders. He dips his head down a bit to look at the kid’s face, the single streetlight above the junkyard’s main office casting a yellow glow on them both. 

“You think the bad guy saw your face?” Tony asks.

Peter winces a little bit, shifting his mouth. “Don’t think so,” he says. “I woke up with my mask on.”

“Got a shiner,” Tony says, briefly touching it with the back of his knuckle. 

“Yeah,” Peter says, rolling his eyes. “Felt that before he knocked my lights out.” 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Tony says, fast. 

“Oh, I’m not,” Peter says. He leans down, resting his forehead on Tony’s shoulder. “He was like eight feet tall, covered in a steel suit, and had a rhino horn. I’m sure he’ll turn up.”

Tony narrows his eyes, gripping the back of Peter’s neck. “The fuck? And this guy buried you?”

“He was with some bald leather jacket guy. They electrocuted me and then the rhino dude hit me and it was—a perfect storm.” He sighs heavily. 

Tony’s mind works fast. Doesn’t sound good, but this rhino guy sounds like someone who won’t be able to hide for long.

“Did they, uh—did they think you were dead?” Tony asks, mouth going a little sour. He knows Peter probably doesn’t know that. Tony doesn’t know why he’s even asking. His mind is still all topsy turvy out of whack. The goddamn _coffin._

“Maybe,” Peter says. “I don’t know. They—they took me by surprise.”

“Happens,” Tony says, ruffling the kid’s hair.

Peter straightens back up, and he looks dejected. 

Tony goes into fix-it mode. “Alright. I’ll fly you back to the compound, we’ll get May over there. Check you over, make sure we’re all good, order in some Chinese, and start searching for these dickheads. We’ll find ‘em, you’ll get ‘em, they’ll go to the Raft. They’ll wish you buried them alive.” He doesn’t know if that last line is too harsh, but Peter nods, blowing out another sigh.

Tony makes a mental note to erase any security this place might have, but it seems broken down enough that he doesn’t think about it too hard. He looks Peter up and down, and worries so much he feels his heart stuttering. “You alright?” he croaks.

Peter meets his eyes. “I’m just really, really impressed with my phone.”

He’s obviously going for nonchalance, whether he’s traumatized or not, so Tony will let him come around when he comes around. Tony himself is on the verge of a complete breakdown, and the image of Peter inside of that coffin will forever be tattooed on the backs of his eyelids. Where the fuck did they even get a coffin? Were they planning this shit? He doesn’t want to know. He needs to know, but he doesn’t want to know. 

“Top of the line,” he says. “Not that I ever want that tested again—but if, _if_ , in some alternate reality it does happen again, I don’t want to get a message from you, from under the ground, that begins with ‘hey’ and contains an emoji. I know you have a Gen Z persona to keep up, but I just—I cannot handle it. I physically cannot ever open that message with the smiley face again.”

Peter snorts. “Noted.”

“Alright,” Tony says, trying to focus on the fact that Peter’s alive, he’s alive, he’s right here. “Mask up, I’ll fly you back.”

“Okay,” Peter says, clutching his mask in his hands. He slips his phone into the compartment on his hip, and Tony turns towards the suit, anxious to get the kid home and get to work. 

He hears Peter clear his throat. “Hey, uh—I mean. Thanks, thanks for...coming to get me.” He laughs a little bit.

Tony turns around, his brows furrowed. “Every time, Pete,” he says, without thinking. He feels a little knocked out by the statement. In what world _wouldn’t_ he come? He hums a bit, knows his emotions are laid bare. “I mean, I can’t let all this tech go to waste. Phone included. Look what it can do.”

“ _Ha Ha_ ,” Peter says, putting his mask back on. 

Tony grins, hooking an arm around Peter’s neck and tugging him closer. “C’mon, Spidey,” he says. “Let’s get these morons.”

Because someone doesn’t just _bury his kid_ and get away with it. And once May finds out? Shit. Tony’s already anticipating the yelling.


End file.
